


From This Moment On (It's Time to Get Real)

by yousingloveyou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: :), Be nice to nice, Bottom Louis, Bumsex, D/s, Dom Liam, He's one of my very favourite characters to write about but he's always shit without Louis so, I just like the D/s dynamics idk, I just scratched at my eyeliner, I just tagged a smiley face love me, I'll tag the smutty stuff when it's happening but its obvsly gonna be gay so, Liam is cute very cute, Lilo is my new obsession, M/M, My first smut with plot I'm sorry if it's shit, My platonic Larry just sucks so much I cant write that stuff, OT5 but barely bc of the Harry thing, Only very little Harry tbh sorry about that, Sassy Louis obviously, Side Ziall, Smut, Sub Louis, Top Liam, Yea smut is happening, lilo, only slight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 17:10:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5464427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yousingloveyou/pseuds/yousingloveyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam meets Louis at a pub and thinks he's underage. They so do not fall in love at first sight even though Liam might be a knight in shining armor. He's just too clumsy to get his priorities straight.</p><p>Or the one where Louis is a little shit, Zayn hates people, Niall has massive biceps, Harry likes to play fairy and fate has a hard time making Liam get his shit together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From This Moment On (It's Time to Get Real)

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the song Long Gone and Moved On by The Script. No need to read the entire lyrics for this because the story is about something completely different, I just thought that line was kind of fitting when put in a different context. The song is great though so I totally recommend that. Along with every other of their songs, they’re legendary. But I'm getting sidetracked.
> 
> Basically this is gonna be a lot of fluff, some normal human being drama but nothing too sad/ traumatic because I dont like those stories myself. I'll give you chest pains the good old fashioned way, with feels. 
> 
> Also I wanted to say that I have no plot planned whatsoever, I just go along with the characters. So once this is done I might go back and edit/change a few things that I realised don't make sense anymore or whatever, I'll point out when and where I'm doing it though so you dont get confused. 
> 
> This is unbetaed because Ive never actually had a beta, its always been different random people. If youre interested in doing it just tell me and maybe we can work something out :) 
> 
> Now go get your hearteyes out because The Louis™ is about to do what he does best; turn every single moment into a gem you cant help but treasure and appreciate.

Liam's life is positively tragic.

Funny choice of words, that. Positively tragic. There's nothing positive about his situation. Hence the tragic.

 

The brunett boy looks up at the cashier from where he had been rumbling through his bag (the bag that's _not_ a purse. Zayn might think differently but it isn't, he just liked the leather design. And the little silver chains make these sweet little sounds when he moves, like tiny bells.

It reminds Liam of Christmas and maybe elves but Zayn doesn't have to know that).

 

Liam desperately wishes for an elf to appear and save him right now because the cashier is looking annoyed now and even though there's no one queueing behind him, Liam can feel his cheeks heating up with every second that passes and he doesn't know where his wallet is. Or, well, he knows it's probably safely at home in his dirty laundry pile. But he can't say that, it'd make the situation even worse. The girl is looking at him like he's something she found under her shoe after someone pointed out it smelled anyway.

 

Finally, Liam sighs and glances at the girl again who is looking at him expectantly, like she can't see his embarrassment and the empty hands that Liam is now trying to sort his greasy hair with. She's quite cute as well.

 

 _Damn it_ , Liam thinks.

Just his luck.

 

“I'm sorry,” he mumbles, “my wallet must've slipped out of my bag somehow.. “

 

“Got any cash on you?” she asks boredly, eyeing his clearly pocketless sweats and hoody.

 

Liam thinks his sigh is reply enough. He silently damns the day some kid told him to “Forget what they told you in scouts, Payno,” and lose his bum bag because it wasn't cool. Liam had never considered his uncoolness fixable but he'd tried anyway. He'd never forgotten to put that thing on though and therefore had always been able to purchase his cigarettes. Or candy, more likely. His boy scout years feel like a lifetime ago.

 

He still isn't cool.

 

But imagining withdrawal symptoms, probably. No surprise with all the stress he's putting himself through.

 

“Look,” he tries, “is there any way I can come back to pay later? I really need these things right now. I could, like, leave you my phone, or something. So you know I'll come back.”

 

His phone is barely two weeks old, it was a moving out present from his parents to “stay in touch” (he knows it's just because his new neighbourhood is beyong dodgy, though. And they were also probably trying to subtly tell his sisters that hey, why don't you move out as well, you’ll get amazing new stuff, too).

 

And yes, Liam's life has come to the point where he'd rather risk bleeding to death in some alley, unable to call for help, than go a minute longer without a smoke.

 

He feels so pathetic, the cashier’s disgusted face can't even make it worse. He's hit rock bottom.

 

“Okay, fine,” the girl says and reaches under her desk to pull out some kind of paper."

 

Just fill this out and come back as soon as possible,” and Liam feels a bit better now that he knows people as pathetic as him are so normal, they even printed out forms for all the hopeless cases.

 

“We normally only give these out to people who look less, well,” she fixes him with that look of disgust again, “homeless. But I know you come here regularly so you gotta have some kind of income, whatever. Just come back tomorrow ‘aight,”

 

And whoops there goes his new born self respect. Why is he not surprised.

 

He really has to have a smoke now, though, so he chirps a “Sure! Thank you so much!” and quickly fills out the paper before giving it back, his phone shaking a bit in his fingers as he hands it over.

 

He hopes the little animated dogs he downloaded the other day will survive a few hours without him.

  
  


-+-+-+-+-+-

  
  


“Li!” Zayn bursts through the door of Liam's room. Okay, not through the actual door but he might as well have, with all the noise he's making.

 

“No,” Liam says firmly, “he's not here. Come back tomorrow.”

 

Zayn snorts and pretends to look surprised as he is confronted with aggressive eyebrow farrowing. But they both know Zayn isn't one to ever admit actually being surprised by anything. It's one of his top ten “How To Keep People Away” rules.

 

“Come on, Li,” Zayn whines, his brown eyes still a shade darker than Liam's even though they're sparkling with mischief.

 

“You’ve been in here all day. As your best friend and flatmate it is my duty to take you out at least once a week. Can't have you pee in the flat again, it's messier since you moved in anyway.”

 

Liam gives him one of his well practiced _what the fuck_ looks because what, Zayn’s flat was a massive trash can when he first saw it. Now the lad hasn't run out of toilet paper in inconvenient moments for almost three weeks.

Liam's mouth betrays him by twitching into a tiny smile .

 

“Z, it's not even 6 yet, though. Where would you take me out to at this ungodly hour anyway,” and he feels very satisfied with coming up with that argument.

 

Zayn just rolls his eyes.

 

“Well, that's the time _normal_ people tend to go out to eat. And I'm in desperate need of a somewhat sober and intellectual conversation-”

 

Liam “Heeey”s at that and gets up to chase after Zayn, who has taken off, cackling loudly and yelling about Liam being drunk on boredom. Which just. No. Liam has all his senses together, he just can't be bothered to do anything, he's still recovering from the horrible homesickness he had the first week after leaving his parents.

 

But Zayn deserves to go out, Liam decides.

 

“Fine, whatever,” he pants while Zayn dances around him like a dog watching its human put their shoes on.

He also looks like he is going to start singing and Liam flees. Zayn’s voice was crafted by the angels, just like his face and body. And personality. He might actually be an angel, Liam thinks sometimes. But if he's going to have a hangover tomorrow he can't handle Zayn’s bat-like high notes right now.

  
  


-+-+-+-+-+-

  
  


Later both boys are walking down the street towards the town center, Zayn in a huge denim jacket with cream coloured fur on the inside that he had traded his usual black leather jacket for a few weeks ago. It's unusually cold for November, even for England.

 

Liam on the other side is still wearing his dark brown fake leather jacket (he doesn't believe in killing anyone for his own comfort. Zayn doesn't either but he gets most of his clothes at a second hand shop and believes that makes it okay).

But he's wearing a thick hoodie underneath it that Zayn calls practical with a sour undertone - Liam calls it the same but with appreciation in his voice - so he's very warm still.

 

They find a small pub that is still serving food at this time but will be a bar only later and they sit down, Liam smiling pleasantly at all the happy people around them and Zayn glaring at anyone who so much as breathes in his direction. He always needs a few drinks before he can deal with the appreciation people seem to give him by instinct.

 

When they're done eating, Liam has to go to the bathroom and when he comes back, there is an arsenal of colourful shots on their table. Zayn’s eyes are sparkling up at him while his hands try to hide the two little empty glasses in front of him. Liam wonders silently how this boy can get tipsy in the time it takes him to empty his bladder. Alcohol shoul definitely not affect anyone that quickly.

 

“Cheers, Z, next round is on me,” Liam falls into his chair heavily.

 

“Nah mate, I didn't pay for those,” Zayn says with a cute little frown, like Liam accused him of a crime.

“That dude over there just sent ‘em over,” he waves his hand dismissively at a group of guys in their mid forties and yeah, that's life as Zayn Malik for you.

 

Liam isn't sure if he should be intimidated or glad for the free drinks. He ends up giggling and fondly shakes his head as he and Zayn start downing the shots.

 

An hour later, both of them are close to being absolutely smashed. Zayn is constantly fighting off the thirsty crowds and Liam thinks it's hilarious. The pub is too small for it to go on forever though, and it's also still quite early.

So at some point the free drinks stop coming in because everyone has realised that the greek god is here to rule, not to mingle with the peasants, and Liam gets up and makes his way over to the bar.

 

While he's waiting for his drinks, he notices a boy who's standing a bit further down the bar and who seems to have a similar problem to Zayn’s. Just that he's being hit on by guys only, and he doesn't seem to be holding up as well as Liam's best friend who has every rejection technique down to perfection.

 

This boy has his arms slung around his small body, half leaning on the bar and smiling politely but with obvious discomfort at the two massive men crowding in on him.

 

Liam sighs deeply, even with his fuzzy mind he can't help but feel the need to go over and help the boy. He's tiny, soft hair half down in a fringe, half tousled on his head and Liam thinks he can't possibly be old enough to be in a bar.

 

His protective side kicks in at that thought and when his drinks are placed in front of him, he just quickly drops them off at their table before signalling Zayn that he'll be right back.

 

The boy at the bar looks incredibly annoyed when he sees Liam approaching him over the shoulders of the guys in front of him. It makes him look a little less fragile and more like an angry kitten. But Liam is on a mission now and it's not like he'd not defend a kitten anyway.

 

“Excuse me, sorry,” he lightly taps one of the guys, who's wearing a blue shirt, on the arm, prompting him to turn around and glare at him. Liam is surprised that he's almost at eye level with him, they both looked huge from further away but Liam tends to underestimate himself.

 

Blue shirt bares his teeth at Liam in an aggressive smile-grimace.

 

“Now, what do _you_ want?” he sneeres but Liam forces himself to not even blink.

 

“I'd like you to leave my friend alone,” Liam says politely and the tiny boy scoffs quietly.

 

“Oh, really?” the other guy, who is only wearing a tight tank top and has turned around as well now, says with a raise of his eyebrows.

 

Liam sighs. He's been doing that a lot lately but he's just not the type to throw stuff when he's annoyed at people. Sighs while have to do.

 

“Listen,” he says, “you’re clearly bothering him. Please, just mind your own business.”

 

Both guys take a step towards Liam at that.

 

“Or what, you gonna punch me?” blue shirt laughs. Liam flinches. He hates violence in any form but he knows he could easily take those douchebags, he used to do a lot of boxing.

 

“Hey!” a new voice sounds from behind the boy who's still leaning against the bar, now with growing worry in his eyes.

 

All of them turn their heads in the direction of the newcomer. Its a small guy with blonde hair and huge biceps. He also has a phone in his hand.

 

“You and you,” he points at the two huge men, “out of my bar, now. I do not tolerate that kind of behaviour here, you know this. Don't make me call the cops on you again.”

 

His voice is way too friendly for his words and the two guys don't look intimidated at all. Which is why Liam's eyes widen in surprise when they actually leave, blue shirt muttering a “Whatever, Niall, whatever,” as he walks past blondie.

 

“Sorry bout them,” the guy who's name is supposedly Niall, says, “ they're harmless, really. All talk. Wouldn't hurt a fly but I don't like these power games.”

He has a strong irish accent that Liam kind of wants to laugh at. But that'd be highly inappropriate, probably.

 

“Thanks, man. I appreciate your help,” he says instead.

 

“Sure thing,” Niall looks at the boy at the bar.

 

“You okay, kid?”

 

The boy nods and thanks him quietly so Niall gives them a wave and scurries off.

 

Liam awkwardly shuffles his feet when he's alone with the boy, he's never sure what to do in these situations. Meaning human interaction situations in general.

 

“So..” he starts and coughs quietly, his voice is awfully rough sometimes, “are you sure you’re okay? You're a bit young to be here, aren't you? I'm Liam, by the way,” he thinks about offering a hand for the boy to shake but he'd have to take a step forward for that and the other looks definitely too defensive for that.

Also the boy shoot him an icy glare at the  _young_ so maybe he shouldn't invade his personal space just yet.

 

“‘m Louis,” comes the quiet reply after a few seconds. The boy looks up and for the first time they make eye contact. Louis has little crinkles around his eyes that make him look kind of happy even when he's frowning like he is right now and it hits Liam half a minute too late that he looks a lot less underage from up close. Less helpless and cute, more sexy. Rugged, even. He has a bit of stubble dusting his prominent jawline that looks mature, none of that “I just hit puberty, look at me” vibe.

 

Louis averts his eyes and oh, Liam had been staring. How cliché.

 

“Look,” Louis’ voice is icy, scratchy yet warm like crisp air on a winter morning, with the promise of hot chocolate and big jumpers and cuddles and sweet sweet kisses.

Liam blushes.

And Louis is still talking.

 

“- and I appreciate the intention so if I can ever do anything to thank you, just gimme a call yeah?”

 

Liam guesses Louis had been thanking him. But then why is he looking at him expectantly?

 

“Um, yeah. Sounds good,” Liam says, though it sounds more like a question.

 

Louis rolls his eyes in barely concealed annoyance and there's that angry kitten vibe again. Though close up it's more like a puma ready to pounce.

 

And whoa.

 

“Gimme your phone then?” Louis urges and right, he wanted Liam to give him a call sometimes.

 

“Right, yeah,” Liam says and reaches into his backpocket. All he finds is his wallet though so he tries the other one but his phone isn't there either. He's getting a strong sense of déjà-vu and what the fuck. But then it hits.

 

“Oh, shit,” Liam says quietly and then again louder, “Oh, shit! Fudge shit no god damn!”

 

His phone is still at the grocery store. Which closes at 8pm, as far as he knows.

 

Louis is looking at him funnily, like he's a wild animal at the zoo. Mildly interested but warily, like he might try to break through the fence and eat him at any minute.

 

“What time is it?” Liam asks him frantically and as soon as Louis tells him it's seven something, Liam starts excusing himself.

 

“I'm so sorry but I really got to go, I'll see you around,” and then Liam takes off, leaving a very perplexed Louis behind.

 

“Wait, what about your number?” he yells, but Liam is already out of the pub.

 

Louis sighs deeply and starts checking out the greek sex god of a guy sitting at the back of the pub. He's way out of his league but he looks lonely so he might as well try.

He orders two drinks and doesn't think of the weird stranger who just ran out on him all night.


End file.
